She shifted, her legs tightening together for a moment as a sudden slew of butterflies erupted in her gut. Her face, which had been pleasantly sporting a devilish smirk, went stoic and non-expressive as he pressed his mouth to her palm. She scrunched her nose and lowered her hand to her lap.
"I'm sure I'll loathe every second I have to spend reading through such rubbish and might ask you to repay me for wasting all my precious time. I don't get paid hardly enough to review the likes of your work, Irving."
A sip of her tea was taken to steady her nerves and suddenly she decided as much as it would thrill her to make him feel as small as an ant, she didn't like this... other, strange feeling coming about. So she stood, took a galleon from her clutch purse and set it on the table before she folded up her parchment and placed it in her purse.
"Au revoir," she stepped around him and headed toward the door.